


Grief and Guilt

by missblueeyes63



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Death of minor character, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Protective Older Brothers, Survivor Guilt, Team as Family, Whump, Whump Clay, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missblueeyes63/pseuds/missblueeyes63
Summary: At Adam's funeral, Stella confronts Bravo team and she makes them realize they left Clay alone in his grief and didn't make sure he was alright both physically and emotionally.





	Grief and Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of an emotional whump story with brothers coming to his rescue.

**_Gravesite_ **

Clay stood erect with an emotionless mask firmly affixed to cover his pain … both physical and psychological. His chest, where the round he took in Mumbai, still hurt like hell. The bruising extensive both internal and external and often left him with a feeling of drowning when he drew in breaths. Though being here, at Adam's grave, hurt a hundred times worse … his grief profound and guilt overwhelming.

_No matter what Ray said, Adam's dead because I slowed us down. His wife is a widow and his daughter fatherless because of me. Had I reacted faster, I could've shot the guy with the s-vest … saved him. Wouldn't have had too if I hadn't been the weakest link in the first place._

After the presentation of the flag and the honors of the gun salute completed, people began to disperse from the graveside service. No buzzing phones interrupted this funeral as they had Alana's. Clay stayed in place, unmoving, continuing to stare at the coffin. He wanted to cry, but couldn't. He needed to scream but found his throat constricted. He desired to take Adam's place, but that wasn't possible.

Stella stood by the car waiting for Clay. He had been closed off ever since he returned. He told her to stay at her place … he wanted to be alone. She had argued, it ended in a terrible row which brought Derek from across the hall bursting into Clay's apartment. She left but asked Derek to keep an eye on him.

This last mission messed with Clay's head left him grief-stricken, and she was powerless to help him. She turned to Jason where he stood with the rest of the team, essentially waiting for Clay to leave with them. She strolled over, and her voice came out a little unsteady. "How is he doing? He won't return my calls."

Ray answered for Jason, who he could tell still carried a weight of guilt on his shoulders believing if he had been there, Adam would still be alive. "He's managing."

"Managing? Doesn't look like it to me. He's lost weight. I can tell. Since he doesn't want me there, which one of you is watching out for him?" Stella didn't want to sound bitchy, though she did, she was only concerned for Clay and didn't understand how to navigate these waters yet.

When the guys all refused to make eye contact, Stella's gut churned. "He's pushed you all away too. Hasn't he?"

"He needs a little time to cope in his own way," Brock said.

Stella pursed her lips as she eyed them all. "Bullshit. He needs the strength of the family he's come to rely on." Knowing she was hitting below the belt, but wanting them to help Clay, Stella said, "Is this how you would help him if I died as Alana did? Leave him alone when he is clearly lost at sea. In one year's time, he lost his best friend Brian and now his mentor and friend Adam."

Jason's eyes flared at the mention of Alana. He had attempted to talk to Clay, been rebuffed, and didn't push as he normally would … because Alana's death was still too fresh in his mind. His grief unbearable, his world still in chaos. "Don't you dare—"

"Dare what?" Stella shot back. "Care about Clay? Want everyone to step up as they did for you after your wife died? His loss may not be the love of his life like yours, Jason, but loss is loss and grief is grief. I don't know what happened on the mission, but I can tell he blames himself."

"He doesn't. I talked to him on the plane," Ray defended.

"Talk to or listened to? Two very different things. You can't order someone not to feel. You might all be badasses, but you're still human and with that comes emotions whether you want to acknowledge that to anyone else."

Sonny glanced over at Clay. He hated hearing Stella's words … she spoke the truth. "We've left the kid alone too long."

Jason clasped his hands behind his head and turned to study Clay.  _I'm fucking up again with him. He is still a rookie. He's only been off Green Team for a year. Sure he's lost men in his team before … but never like this._  "We'll take care of him."

"You better. I want to help him, but he can't even tell me what happened on the mission besides Adam died. I don't have a grasp of what occurred, so I'm going at this blind. He wouldn't even allow me to hug him when he first arrived home. When I came up behind him and embraced him, Clay pulled away, hissed at me, and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door. That isn't like him. We've argued before, and he never behaved that way."

"Probably his bruised chest still hurt," Trent said.

"What?" Stella's eyes widened. "He was injured?"

Ray peered at Stella. "He didn't tell you?"

"No. He was home all of ten minutes before he was telling me to leave and five minutes later Derek was busting in. As I said, he won't return my calls. How bad was he hurt?" Stella's eyes bored into Ray.

"Took a gunshot to his chest in the vest. Not comfortable, but he completed the mission." Ray gave her the shortened, vague version leaving out Clay had not been breathing.

Her gaze softening, she shifted to Trent. "Did you check him out or make him go visit the base doctor?"

Trent's eyes dropped to the ground as he grimaced. Upon arrival, he had forgotten to ensure Clay went to the doc. Everyone was so focused on Adam's death.

Gobstruck, Stella gaped. "You didn't, did you?"

Guilt-ridden, Trent shook his head.

Having heard enough, Stella wanted to kick each of them in the groin for letting Clay down. She had counted on them being there for him when he pushed her away. They had been there for Clay every other time without fail.

"Great, just great. You left him all alone and didn't make sure he was okay physically. No wonder he has trouble trusting people … those he counts on always seem to let him down." Stella stalked over to Clay. Enough was enough. She loved him and wouldn't allow him to self-destruct.

"She's right. I gave him platitudes on the plane. Told him this isn't about him … but it is. He was struggling, and I didn't bother to listen. He said Adam reamed him for jumping on a grenade in training and he couldn't understand why Adam did what he did." Ray watched as Stella approached Clay and the kid didn't acknowledge her.

"He froze afterward. Couldn't respond to Havoc," Sonny said. The touchy-feely stuff difficult for him to deal with.

"Not froze … shock," Trent offered. "I should've realized … but he appeared to have shaken it off."

"Adam told him to shake it off, so he did as ordered. At least outwardly. He also said he felt like the weakest link, and he was having trouble catching his breath." Brock reflected on the events with new eyes. "Clay's blaming himself. He might need some time off to get his head on straight."

"No. He needs to jump back in … get back on the horse. Otherwise, he is gonna second-guess himself right out of DEVGRU." Jason started towards Clay. He would be damned if he would lose Clay that way. The kid didn't need coddling, he needed to rebuild his confidence.

* * *

_**Clay's Apartment** _

Glaring at four of five men in his unit, Clay couldn't believe they told Stella he'd been shot, shanghaied him at the graveyard, and forced themselves into his place. He contemplated calling the police and reporting them as trespassers … but if he went for a phone, they would gang up on him to stop him. Not one of them would listen when he told them to leave him the fuck alone.

Sonny shut the fridge after checking the contents. He found only a stem of grapes, two bottles of craft beer, a half-eaten gyro, a clove of garlic, and a can of soda. Stella had been right about him not eating since there were also no take-out wrappers in his garbage. Covering his actions, Sonny groused, "Don't you have any decent beer?"

"Don't like my beer … leave. I'm sure you can find one at Glitter Girls," Clay griped referring to the strip club Sonny frequented.

Grabbing a soda instead of the crap beer, Sonny returned to the living area and sat on the edge of the couch as he popped it open.

Trent opened the door, his med kit slung over his shoulder. He would've been here sooner, but he had to go home to grab it and to call the team doc. He glanced at Jason. "You tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Clay asked.

"Take that as a no. Off with your jacket and shirt, kid. You never bothered to get checked out by the doc." Trent moved toward Clay.

"Don't need to be … just bruising." Clay crossed his arms, refusing to be goaded into complying. He withheld the hiss, but couldn't stop the grimace from showing from his motion.

Sonny guzzled the root beer then crushed the can. "Fine by me if you want to do this the hard way. Me, Brock, Jason, and Ray can strip you down so Trent can take a gander at your chest." He stood and took a step toward Clay. "What will it be, Mr. GQ?"

Clay glanced at Jason, Ray, and Brock. They all shifted and would make good on Sonny's threat. If he were feeling up to par, he would grapple with them, but as it was, he grasped he would lose at this point. "Fine, but this isn't a goddamn peep show." He pivoted and strode to his bedroom as he shucked his jacket.

Sonny sat back down and grinned as Trent followed Spenser into the room.

As Clay unbuttoned his shirt, Trent asked, "Are you still experiencing pain?"

Turning to face Trent, Clay responded. "Occasionally, but bruising will do that."

Trent's brows shot up upon viewing Clay's chest. "Jesus Christ! Why the hell didn't you go to the doc … or call me?" He stepped closer, and his raised voice brought the rest of the guys into the room.

"Fuck! A little privacy." Clay spun around, displaying his back to them, hiding the massive black and purple contusion covering the front of his torso.

Jason strode forward, noting all the bruising and several deep gouges on the kid's back too. "Thought you said he only got hit in the chest. Where the hell did the rest of this gouging come from?" His hand landed on Clay's shoulder, his grip gentle as he squeezed. When Spenser flinched, he maintained his grasp.

Clay remained still, he forgot about the state of his back until Jason spoke. When Jason's hand landed, he wanted to pull away. He didn't deserve anyone's care or concern. He screwed up and Adam was gone as a result.

Another part of him whispered to hold still and accept the care of his brothers. Clay was drowning again. The weight of his grief rather than his father pulling him into the depths of hell.

Jason recognized the kid was hurting, not only physically. The shadows under his eyes indicated Spenser had not slept much since returning five days ago. Pitching his voice in a tone he only used when Clay was injured in the field and needed comfort, Jason said, "Sit down and let Trent exam those gouges." He kept hold as Clay complied.

Moving to the corner of his bed, Clay sat, surprised Jason took a seat next to him and didn't remove his hand … one which Clay wanted to grab as a lifeline. He had shoved them all away for the past five days, but he needed them … more than he realized until this very moment.

Ray came forward with Trent. "He landed on his back. Could've happened then, but they appear fresh … newer."

Trent pulled out his supplies, setting them on the mattress. "I'm gonna listen to your lungs first then clean the gashes on your back. How did you get those? Nothing in your body armor would cause them, and Ray's right, they're more recent."

Gazing at the ground, Clay came clean. "Went for a run yesterday. Slipped on gravel and went down a hill on my back."

"Well, that makes more sense." Trent put the stethoscope to Clay's back and instructed, "Deep breaths." He listened. Though a little tight, he didn't note any rails which would concern him. He moved to the front and repeated the process. "Lungs sound clear. Wish you came to me and let me check this sooner. With swelling and bruising like this must hurt like a bitch when you inhale and exhale."

Clay shrugged.

"What the hell were you doing going jogging in this condition?" Brock admonished.

Lifting his eyes, he met Brock's gaze. "Completed a mission like this, didn't I?"

Brock nodded, but said, "Beside the point. We all know adrenaline kicks in and covers our pain in the field. But yesterday you would've been feeling the full effects."

Shifting his gaze to Ray, who leaned against his dresser, Clay said, "Tried to get the grisly images of Adam out of my head. Ghostly visions of him running for the guy with the s-vest replay on a constant loop, haunting my every moment. If I hadn't been the weak link, slowed us down, we wouldn't have been there when the suicide bomber rushed at us. Adam would be alive."

Ray nodded, listening this time. "So, you believe you getting shot is something you could've prevented?"

Clay gave a nod but hissed as Trent used gauze soaked in antiseptic to wash out one of the gashes on his back.

"How?" Ray asked.

Jason remained quiet, allowing Ray and the others to guide Clay through the process of dissecting the moves the team made since he was not with them.

"Should've maintained better cover," Clay answered.

Sonny harrumphed before saying, "Not much choice. They set the sniper trap in a perfect location. We would still be pinned down if you and Ray had not taken the risk to find a position to take out the damned sniper. Could've been Ray who was hit."

"But it wasn't. I gave him a target," Clay bit back.

"Deliberately?" Trent pressed on one of the deeper gouges eliciting a slight groan from Clay as he cleaned the wound.

Twisting his head, Clay gaped at Trent. "No."

Ray took over again. "After you were shot, I guess you decided to purposefully slow us down by not breathing, right?"

Whipping his head back to Ray at his asinine question, Clay started to answer, but Brock's remark had him turning to peer at him.

"Clay must've also ensured we would run across the next set of tangos knowing they would have a guy in an s-vest waiting to take us all out," Brock added his absurd comment.

"Don't forget the kid made sure Adam ran out of ammo at that exact moment and prevented him from reloading in time to shoot the bastard running at us," Sonny further expanded the ridiculous concept.

Clay could only gawp at his brothers.

Ray pushed off the dresser, intending to shake Jason out of his guilt-trip too. "Actually, this is all Jason's fault. If he had been there, he could've prevented all your actions."

"NOW WAIT A MINUTE! THIS IS NOT JASON'S FAULT. HE WASN'T THERE. HE WAS WHERE HE NEEDED TO BE. DON'T YOU DARE LAY THIS AT HIS FEET," Clay yelled and glared at Ray.

Jason sighed finally accepting Adam's death was not on him.  _Damn Ray and his methods._  He squeezed Clay's shoulder as he spoke. "Calm down. What Ray is trying to get you to see is this is no more your fault than mine. The team encountered unpredictable events in a volatile atmosphere. You completed your initial mission and were sent on a follow-on one in a dangerous and chaotic environment.

"You did as you were trained. Shit happens. We can't foresee every possible outcome. The second force you came across while patrolling to the university would've likely been there regardless of when you arrived … same with the s-vest. Hizbul Mujahideen were set on wreaking havoc and killing anyone trying to regain order."

Capturing Clay's gaze, noting the pain, Jason held them for a moment of silence before saying, "Adam's death is not your fault and it is not mine either. A good man, an excellent SEAL, died because he was doing what he was trained to do. We will honor Adam's sacrifice. In the worst of conditions, the legacy of my teammates steadies my resolve and silently guides my every deed."

Clay swallowed the lump of emotion growing in his throat. He fought against the tears not wanting to shed them in front of the guys as everyone's words sank in.

Jason pulled Clay to him and wrapped an arm around his back. His eyes met with Ray's and a silent conversation occurred.

Ray motioned to the others to exit the room and as the last one out, he shut the door, with one glance back. He noted Spenser's shoulders shaking as he released his pent-up emotions.

In the living room, the men of Bravo went into action. Trent called Stella. They wanted Stella here because they would not allow Clay to push her away … she was a keeper. Also, she needed to learn how to help Clay through grief, because in their line of work, death of a teammate was a reality and he would need her in the future.

Sonny contacted Davis, explained the state of Clay's empty fridge, and left the grocery shopping in her hands. He called the local pizza place next … the kid needed something to eat.

Brock called his wife and requested she bring over Cerberus. His dog had a connection with Clay and offered him comfort the kid wouldn't accept from them.

On the phone with Blackburn, Ray explained Bravo team needed to be out of rotation for another week. When asked why, he was honest and said they all needed to get their heads screwed on right after Adam's loss. The lieutenant commander understood and agreed.

Twenty minutes later, Stella arrived and she peered at the men as she sucked in a breath. "What do I do?"

"Go in the bedroom and take over for Jason. Just be there for him. Don't push him to talk or explain," Ray instructed.

Stella nodded and she took hesitant steps to the door. Upon opening, she met Jason's eyes and noted the glistening of unshed tears in them as he held Clay. She quietly padded to the bed and stood next to Jason.

Releasing Clay, who had stopped crying and only held on, Jason said, "Someone you need is here." He rose and Stella slipped into his spot.

Clay's red-rimmed eyes stared at Stella. He had so much to apologize for … he had been angry and mean to her when he arrived home when all she wanted to do was help him. "I'm sorry—"

Stella withheld her gasp upon glimpsing his torso as she put a finger over his lips. "Shhh." She pulled him to her, putting his head in the crook of her shoulder. "Nothing to be sorry for. I'm here for you." Her fingers gently ghosted over his back as his arms encircled her waist.

Jason stepped out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. His longing for Alana increased. The love of a good woman soothed invisible wounds, helped diminish the gloom and grim images they carried, kept ghosts at bay, and eased the pain … much like a guardian angel.

Fifteen minutes later, now dressed in black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt, Clay opened the bedroom door and found the guys lounging in his apartment munching on pizza and drinking beer. He noted the occupants now included Davis, Blackburn, Ellis, Cerberus, Derek, and Kairos.

Stella grasped Clay's hand and smiled. "Pizza smells wonderful." She drew him out into the main room.

Sonny stood and quipped, "Saved a place for you, Princess Grace."

"Grace?" Clay asked perplexed by the new name.

Chuckling, Sonny said, "Figured it fits since you gracefully surfed down a hill and gouged your back."

Clay groaned.  _Why didn't I keep my mouth shut about the hill?_

Davis held out a plate filled with pizza to Clay. "Don't mind him. He's on his third beer."

Clay took the plate and sat in the spot Sonny vacated as Stella went to the kitchen. He appreciated Sonny treating him no different, though he knew they all witnessed him breaking down in Jason's arms. The intensity of his guilt abated drastically and he now accepted he was not the cause of Adam's demise, although the grief still lingered … a shared grief they all felt for the loss of a brother.

He took a bite of pizza then ripped off a piece for Cerberus who came and sat at his feet. The conversation flying around was normal as if they were hanging out at the bar or at a picnic, which helped ground Clay more than sympathetic words.

Stella gasped when she spied the filled fridge. They had been staying at her place before the mission, and she knew it was empty and Clay wouldn't bother grocery shopping … one reason she knew he had not been eating. She peered at Davis. "How much do I owe you?"

Lisa shook her head. "Nothing. We're family. We take care of one another. Thank you for kicking the guys' asses into gear."

Stella chuckled. "Not exactly where I wanted to kick them … the groin was my intended target."

Lisa busted out in a gut laugh. "I like you, Stella. You're good for Clay."

"He's good for me too." As they exited the kitchen Stella heard Sonny say, "So have you heard the one about a goat, a gremlin, a gibbon, and a goblin going into a bar?" She turned to Davis and grimaced as Sonny continued with the gross joke.

Lisa patted Stella's shoulder. "Sonny's an acquired taste. He grows on you."

Stella snickered, "Like gangrene."

"Exactly." Davis grinned. "But he has a heart of gold. He and everyone else on the team will ensure Clay gets through this."

"I can see that." Stella took the beer she grabbed for Clay and sat beside him when Brock offered her the spot. She noted Cerberus remained glued to Clay, laying his head on Clay's knee. When Clay began to absently scratch the dog behind the ear, Stella grinned. With the help of his chosen family, Clay would cope with his grief, shed his guilt, and be mission ready soon.


End file.
